Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes: A Sermon by Fr. Davenport for the Feast of St. Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist

A Sermon by Fr. Davenport, 21 September 2008

St. Matthew, Apostle & Evangelist

Proverbs 3:1-6
2 Timothy 3:14-17
Matthew 9:9-13

“And Jesus saith unto him, ‘Follow me.’ And Matthew arose, and followed him.”

+ In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

FOR YEARS I assumed that the American Revolution ended with the surrender of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown in October 1781. 1 The official end came two years later with the Treaty of Paris, and those two years I assumed were an extended denouement. In fact, the British only started negotiating seriously after they had suffered some military setbacks in Europe, provoking it to try diplomacy, instead of force. Making peace with the States could drive a wedge between those allied against Britain.

While there were no major military campaigns in the States, the two years between Yorktown and Paris had plenty of drama. One moment in March 1783 almost changed everything. Having endured years of neglect and unpaid for the last year, many officers of the Continental army, many patriots who had fought courageously and suffered much, nearly mutinied. The stakes were huge. The dissident officers called a meeting. It fell to George Washington to prevent a catastrophe. If he hadn’t, our country – if it would have come into existence at all – would almost certainly be much different than it is today.

Washington scheduled a meeting with his officers where he made a dramatic appeal. Washington reminded his officers that he had been among the first to embark in “the Cause of our common Country” and that he had been their constant companion and witness, never leaving their side except for other public duty. Washington said that he appreciated their merit and that he understood their distresses. He warned them that they threatened “to open the flood Gates of Civil discord, and deluge our rising Empire in Blood.”

Perhaps the most important thing Washington said was to remind them of the dignity of their cause, their calling, their desire to secure their hard fought liberties, to bring the world – what Washington considered to be – “the last stage of perfection.” Washington presented his officers with a decision. He acknowledged that we all make mistakes and botch our choices at times, but here, despite their anger and grumbling, they could still choose right. He wanted them to see the big picture, to see beyond the injustices and discomforts they were currently experiencing. The noble course would give them honor. People, posterity would admire them. He finished his speech and left the meeting for his officers to assume their responsibility and to make a choice. No bluster. No commands. No show of force. No coercion. Rather, the presentation of a decision. What’s best in you? It’s your call.

Today’s gospel is also about a dramatic decision. St. Matthew had an ignoble existence before he met Jesus. Tax collecting in the ancient world was not as refined and bureaucratic as it is today. For those who resent the IRS, it may be that the only thing worse than the IRS is not having the IRS. In the ancient world, sure there were far fewer forms and schedules, but that meant a much more personal touch, although not necessarily as personal as Tony Soprano. Whether tax collecting was outsourced to non-government workers or not, it was often a lucrative venture. Tax collecting usually had a profit motive, and this naturally made the population distrustful of tax collectors.

There was direct taxation in the form of ‘head’ or ‘poll’ taxes as well as land taxes. There was also indirect taxation, usually on the transport of goods, a toll on commerce. This likely was Matthew’s work, collecting custom receipts on fish transported from the Sea of Galilee. Besides these taxes, Jews had a Temple tax and sent tithes to Jerusalem. Their double burden caused considerable hardship and provoked much resentment and resistance.

While in the scheme of things he was only a minor functionary, Matthew still would have endured fierce hostility; he would have been regarded as a quisling, counted with sinners, ostracized along with beggars, thieves, prostitutes, adulterers, drunks. Given the excitement in the financial markets last week, it’s timely to note that this category of sinners may also have included bankers. Why is banking sinful? Unlike our bankers, did their bankers not have the generosity to share their investments with the public? Were they unwilling to serve the public good by socializing their losses? No. Banking – theirs and ours – involves charging interest, and charging interest violates scripture. (Lev 25:36-37; Dt 23:20-21)

Before righteous indignation take us over, we can recall that according to scripture it seems likely all of us with bank accounts, retirement accounts, or pensions would also have qualified as ‘sinners’ and so held in contempt. It’s hard to be a biblical literalist if you don’t pick what parts of the Bible to be literal about.

Here’s the good news: Jesus is a friend to anyone. He doesn’t observe the social norms that divide people. He consistently seeks out the lost, the least, the left behind, the loathsome. Jesus is a living parable, acting out the roles of the shepherd of the lost sheep, of the woman who loses a coin and cleans the whole house to find it, of the merciful father of the prodigal son. (Lk 15:3-7, 8-10,11-32) Jesus constantly challenged religious conventions, especially those that put obstacles in the way of love and mercy and friendship. “I want mercy and not sacrifice.” In other words, God’s priority is reconciliation, not worship, not ritual, certainly not custom. Keep the main thing the main thing.

Jesus offers friendship to Matthew. He doesn’t first seek Matthew’s confession or repentance, but rather reaches out to Matthew and includes him. He invites him to make a decision. What do you want to be? He gives him a chance to break from his past. Toward what values do you want to orient your life? What’s best in you? It’s our question, too.

In a few moments, we are going to renew our baptismal vows with Charlie. We’ll respond to eight questions that summarize our decision to follow Jesus. We’ll commit ourselves again to a vision of purpose and reality and nobility. Like Matthew, like Washington’s officers, we’ve made mistakes, strayed from the way, but our baptismal vows draw us back to our center – to Jesus. They declare what’s attractive about him and what we want our lives to be about. They challenge us to put the right things first. There exists no greater life than being a co-worker with God.

We’ll begin: I believe in the Father, creator of heaven and earth. God made the world – the material and the spiritual, and all of it is good. I have responsibilities toward it, but I should enjoy it. The world is no illusion, but real, and ultimately will be perfected. God brings it into eternity. Heaven embraces earth.

I believe in Jesus Christ. God loves us so much that he became one of us, identified with us, died for us, conquered death for us. God cherishes every one of us. He’s personally involved with us.

I believe in the Holy Spirit. God wants to be with us. His presence, his grace is always available to us. God has gifted me and works in me so that what seems to be my achievement is God working through me. There’s no hierarchy of preference. What appears to be mine is really a gift from God.

These first three questions remind us that God – in his very being Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – is about relationship. Love is more than human emotion and biochemistry; it’s the ultimate reality – the nature of God, the fountain of life. Of all the ways we can direct ourselves – to power, to wealth, to accomplishment, to recognition, what really matters is our relationships. That’s why we follow Jesus.

The next five questions provide some detail of what following Jesus looks like. First, we meet the resurrected Christ through scripture (apostolic teaching), through one another (fellowship, honoring Jesus’s presence in every person), through the breaking of bread (the mass), and through prayer. These four – scripture, community, sacraments, prayer – fill us with the life of God so we can do his work.

Second, the horror of human existence is the way we hurt one another, but that doesn’t have to define us. We can always turn back toward Jesus who embraces us and forgives us. And since we’ve been forgiven, we forgive others, and that means being willing to bear some pain and to suffer injustice. It’s a little taste of the cross.

Third, our words and lives bear witness to the good news. We share what we’ve been given. Jesus called Matthew to his table. Now we, on behalf of Jesus, invite other people to the table. We go out of our way to welcome the unknown, the seeker, the apathetic, the lost, the stranger. We have to be on lookout and have the guts to talk about Jesus. Jesus needs us to show his attractiveness, to reach out to the Matthews of our world.

Fourth, Jesus said, “As you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.” It requires little of us to love an attractive, bright person, someone who engages us emotionally, physically, intellectually, but Jesus calls us to love the less attractive and the hurting as well. Real love requires us to try to put ourselves in someone else’s place, to appreciate the way they experience life. This is the incarnation. Jesus came and put himself in our place.

Fifth, Jesus came to bring peace and justice. Sometimes Christians may be fairly criticized for being too focused on the next world. God cares about this world. He’s focused on the here and now. He wants us to have life in this world, not to worry about life after this world. God’s work now is reconciling divisions, caring for those in need, healing the sick, embracing the isolated, sharing the good news. When we participate in this work, we have life. This builds God’s kingdom now. It hastens the union of heaven and earth.

What are you living for? What’s best in you? What do you want to be? The answers we have for those questions show us what we follow. There’s no more glorious, invigorating, joyful purpose than the vows we make in the Baptismal Covenant. It’s why Matthew turned his life around and followed Jesus.

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

For the Newburgh mutiny: Joseph J. Ellis, His Excellency: George Washington, Alfred A. Knopf (2004), pp. 141-144; and, Richard Brookhiser, George Washington on Leadership, Basic Books (2008), pp. 125-27, 141-2, 161-62.